Unstoppable Unforgiven (Shermaine and Joshua)

Roy remained unaware he had just been scored by a husky. With ears drooped low, he curled up, trying to tune out the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Nearly half an hour passed before Molly emerged. Her robe hung loosely around her, and she was towel drying her hair. Once it was mostly dry, sha crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

The past few days had left her utterly drained. Sleepless nights buried in family affairs, the weight of an entire legacy resting on her shoulders, and now, an attempted assassination. Her body ached for rest.

Lying back, she muttered, “There’s dog food in Lucky’s bowl. If you’re hungry, help yourself.”

Roy let out a low whine. He wasn’t hungry. And he didn’t eat dog food.

She glanced over. “Do you have a name?”

He said nothing. Of course he did. It was the name she had been calling out in her heart all this time.

Molly’s voice was quiet, casual. “If you do, make a sound. If not, wag your tail.”

After a pause, Roy wagged his tail.

“Alright,” she said. “Then Roy it is.”

She pulled the covers over herself, clicked off the light, and turned onto her side. “I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight, Roy. Goodnight, Lucky.”

Outside, the rain continued in a soft, steady drizzle.

Lucky was already snoring.

And Molly, too exhausted to think, soon drifted into deep sleep.

At the foot of the bed, Roy lay wide awake.

The scent of her filled the room, seeping into his bones. His excitement was instinctive, impossible to suppress. He knew he didn’t deserve her, not now, but the desire to be close to her overwhelmed every rational thought.

He climbed onto the bed. The mattress shifted under his weight, but she didn’t stir.

Moments later, his form shifted. He was human again.

Roy gazed down at her sleeping face, entranced.

‘Did Momo miss me? Is that why she chose this name? Could she still care for me?‘ he wondered.

The thought brought both joy and pain. If only he hadn’t become what he was.

Images of Faye surfaced, and with them, a cold fury/He had endured two years of torment. If she ever appeared again, he wouldn’t hesitate. Killing her wouldn’t be enough.

“Momo…” he whispered, voice rough with longing. “Momo…

“I just want one kiss. Just one.”

He braced himself on either side of her shoulders and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her brow. It wasn’t enough. She was defenseless in her sleep, and he knew moments like this wouldn’t come again.

So he kissed her again gently, moving from her brow to her nose, then finally to her lips.

Her lips were so sch and sweet.

Buddenly, she stirred. Her brows drew together slightly. “Ray..” she murmured. “Roy”

Though her voice was barely audible, Roy heard every syllable.

In her dream, she reached for him, the Roy she believed lost. Her arms wrapped around him, and she kissed him as though to tell him she missed him.

In the waking world, Roy was pulled fully into her embrace, his lips meeting hers. Heat flushed through him. Her kiss was unguarded, tender, and warm.

He couldn’t hold back. His hands clenched at the sheets as he returned the kiss, catching her tongue, deepening the connection.

But she remained asleep and unaware.

When she fell still again, he curled into her, murmuring her name like a prayer, “Momo…”

Morning light filtered into the room.

Molly woke with a start, feeling as though something heavy was crushing her chest. When she opened her eyes, she saw the wolf from the night before sprawled over her, sleeping peacefully.

No wonder the night had felt so warm. It was like being wrapped in a living furnace.

She gave him a shove with her foot, but he didn’t budge, far too heavy.

“Roy,” she called, her voice firm. “Off.”

He stirred at the sound of her voice, let out a soft whine, and obediently hopped down from the bed.

Molly threw back the covers and planted her feet on the floor.

Roy looked up at her, eyes fixed. noveldrama

She followed his gaze, then glanced down. Her robe had come loose in her sleep. She quickly adjusted it. But he was just a wolf, and she didn’t let it

bother her.

Without a word, she headed to the bathroom to wash up.

Sleep had left her famished. Fortunately, breakfast had already been arranged in the kitchen.

Once she was dressed, she made her way downstairs.

Roy and Lucky followed close behind.

By morning, news of Molly’s bravery had spread throughout Ustrana.

In just one night, she had earned a new title, Lady Reaper. And with the striking white wolf that had fought alongside her, some began calling her the Wolf Queen,

To tame a wild beast, people whispered, there had to be something untamed in her blood as well.

When Molly came downstairs, the dining room was already full, her siblings seated alongside Fred’s other women, her mother notably absent.

All eyes turned as she entered, poised and graceful, a white wolf trailing quietly behind. His fur gleamed, his stance proud, energy coiled in his limbs.

Though clearly dangerous, he followed her with eerie obedience.

Molly took her seat at the head of the table and said to the maid, “Bring two extra chairs. And more meat, plenty.”

“Yes, Ms. Hill.”

The maid returned quickly with the chairs. One was placed beside Molly. Roy leapt up and sat neatly, his tail flicking as he swept a glance over the table, deliberately baring his teeth.

‘Keep staring, and I’ll tear your throat out,’ he thought.

Instantly, the room’s atmosphere shifted. Eyes dropped, and forks clinked against plates.

Lucky, despite his age, hopped up onto the second chair with a soft grunt.

Breakfast was lavish, and soon the table filled with trays of meat, some cooked, some raw.

Molly glanced at Roy. “Which one?”

He pointed a paw at the cooked meat. Hunger had set in, and he reached instinctively for the food.

Molly gave him a look. “You want to get filthy again? I just bathed you last night.”

Roy let out a small, apologetic whine. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t use utensils either.

Lucky, meanwhile, eyed the meat longingly. His appetite was intact, but his stomach no longer cooperated.

Molly picked up a piece of meat and fed Roy directly.

He accepted it eagerly, chewing with noisy satisfaction.

Then she passed a small bone to Lucky. “You’ve got a weak gut. Two bones at most.”

Lucky gave a single bark in reply.

As the meal went on, conversation was sparse. Every face wore a mask, and everyone had their own thoughts.

Finally, someone spoke. “Momo,” said Clara Hill, Molly’s second sister, her voice almost too casual, “did you find out who was behind the attack yesterday? Do you need help looking into it?”

Molly crossed one leg over the other, sipped her milk, and replied coolly, “I’ll find out. And when I do, I won’t let it slide.”

Clara leaned in slightly. “I might have a lead.”

Molly gave a slight smile. “I appreciate it.”

Clara softened her tone. “Any time.”

The others followed suit, offering similar pleasantries and subtle favors. But one face at the table remained sour.

Lio Hill, the eldest, said nothing. He had always assumed that, as the firstborn son, the family’s legacy would fall to him. Instead, Fred had handed it to Molly.

Now the power that should’ve been his was in her hands, and watching her sit in that chair only deepened the wound.

He stood abruptly. “I’m done. I’ll take my leave.” He walked out without waiting for acknowledgment.

Molly didn’t stop him, Leisurely, she continued feeding Roy and eating her breakfast, her mood unbothered, almost light.

E

Once the meal ended, she rose to leave.

Roy, unwilling to be left behind, insisted on following. The moment she stepped into the car, he leapt in after her.

Elsewhere, in a secluded rose garden deep within the estate, Lio had already gathered with Carter Hill, the fourth son, and Lucy Hill, the seventh daughter. Their expressions were tense, eyes darting.

“The assassination failed,” Lucy said. “What now?”

If they didn’t act quickly, Molly would uncover everything. And once she had proof, there would be no hiding the consequences.

Lio’s voice was cold. “We still have one chance. Bruce is in custody. Given their history, she’ll try to rescue him. When she does, we use that opportunity to bring her down.”

Three days later, Shermaine finished handling her private affairs and boarded a flight to Ustrana. At 9 p.m., she arrived in Loang,

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